Voices of Hope
by Yono Lindquist
Summary: Vivian and Henry thought they were all alone in the zombie apocalypse. But one day, on the radio that Henry stubbornly keeps checking, suddenly music and conversation sounds. For the two siblings, the voices of our well-known Radio Abel hosts Jack and Eugene become something more, something so very vital for survival: They become voices of hope.
1. Part 1

Voices of Hope

 _A "Zombies, Run!" fanfiction_

* * *

A/N:  
I am so into this running app. The story is genius, the characters are wonderful, and the plot just continues being great (I am currently running season five). I am in awe. Thank you, Six to Start and Naomi Alderman, for writing such a great adventure, and thanks to all the wonderful voice actors who make the characters come alive!

The below story originated from the thought of what might happen if people outside of Abel Township heard Jack and Eugene on Radio Abel. ZR Radio Mode does touch upon this in later seasons, which kept my inspiration going, but my story takes place during season one, back when Radio Abel was still a fairly new thing (it should be spoiler-free, however, unless I've missed something in my own writing).

Because what if suddenly, one day, two siblings who thought they were all alone heard music and conversation coming out of a radio that hadn't had anything but white noise in a long time otherwise? Then those well-known voices of Jack and Eugene would suddenly become something more, something so very vital for survival: They would become voices of hope.

This is a story about just that. Enjoy.

(P.S. To my regular followers: I'm sorry about the long wait for next chapter of _Sinister Sundown_! I swear, I am working on it as we speak and will hopefully be able to upload it soon!)

DISCLAIMER: ALL LYRICS QUOTED BELONG TO THEIR RESPECTIVE OWNERS!

[A/N over.]

* * *

All Hell had broken loose.

Or maybe Hell had descended on Earth. Vivian wasn't quite sure, because could something that was supposed to be below ground descend? But whatever the correct phrase to use, the dead was walking, and Vivian was cold and hungry and not sure why she was thinking of idioms. Maybe, she decided, it was to keep her mind occupied until Henry returned. Or maybe it was simply that she was slowly going insane and this was the first sign of it: idiom-obsession when she'd never go to school again anyway. For which she supposed she ought to be delighted, but she could not find it in herself to be so.

Viv pulled the blanket around her tighter and tried to edge herself just the slightest bit closer to the candle, but stopped for fear of setting the blanket on fire. That would not do. If she burned it, she would be even colder and also waste water on putting out the flames. Although, she thought with a wry smile, then at least she would be warm again for a little while. It seemed like forever since she had last felt truly comfortable, although she knew she was overestimating the time that had passed since the cold set in.

Or was she? They had forgotten to keep a calendar in the early days since the outbreak, and when they had finally realized such a thing might have been nice to have, it had already been impossible to find out exactly how many days had passed, and their attempt had only left them both frustrated, though Henry the most.

The sound of the cupboard outside the door being moved made Viv's heart skip a beat and she sat completely still while she listened. It could not be the zombies, could it? They did not have enough of a mind left to actually push it away. So it must be Henry, right?

Right?

Holding her breath, she kept listening intently as the someone downstairs (she really, really did hope it was Henry!) opened the door, then, by the sound of it, crossed the living room before he (or she, but it must be a he, since it had to be Henry, right?) climbed the stairs, step by step, calmly (which meant it was Henry, because wouldn't anyone else have been stepping much more carefully?). Then the someone reached the bedroom she was sitting in and the door was opened …

Viv finally let out her breath. The sight of the dark brown, curly hair and bespectacled brown eyes made relief surge through her entire body. It really was Henry.

The mouth with a tiny scar at the left side smiled in a thin face as he saw her there all tugged away in the blanket, and he stepped in further, closing the door behind him before he laid down the baseball bat he had carried with him _out there_ , on the hell grounds (her mind went, for a moment, back to the idiom problem), and his rucksack. She got up and, carefully stepping round the candle, went to him.

"Did you find anything?" she asked, glancing at the bag. It seemed full, but it could be her hunger imagining things.

"I did," he assured her, opened the zipper, and pulled out a few items while naming them. "Some fresh water … Fruit bars … Oh, and here's the best part." He showed her a small package which she recognized immediately.

"Cup noodles!" she exclaimed happily.

Henry watched his little sister's delighted face as she grasped the pack of uncooked pasta, and a small smile spread on his lips. It was a rare sight these days, that unconcealed joy, but small things like this sometimes brought it up in her and it always made him feel accomplished, because the fact that she could still smile meant that he had managed to at least somewhat properly take care of her.

"Yeah," he replied. "I'm glad we had enough sense left to bring along dad's cooking gear. It's the thing we've had the most use of, definitely, even counting my bat. Thank god for camping enthusiasts!"

Viv nodded. She was already busy finding said gear, barely even noticing the mention of their dad who had died early on, before anyone had really realized what the outbreak entailed, and even longer before anyone had understood that it meant the end of the world as they knew it. It wasn't that she did not still grieve for their father, only that she had seen so many horrible things since then that it seemed almost a lifetime ago that they had lost him. He had been the first of their family to go.

She unpacked the set of pots and put one of them on the small gas ring. Then she lighted a match and put it to the ring; it caught on immediately. Henry had collected one of their water bottles and poured it into the pot, then watched as Viv opened the two cup noodles before seating herself right in front of the cooking gear with eyes that seemed to command the water to start boiling, sooner rather than later.

As she sat there, Henry walked past her and picked something up from the chest of drawers they had made their own in the time they had stayed here. Viv turned her head a little to see what it could be, but his back was to her, and she did not get her answer until he settled down across from her. In his hand, he held a small radio, and she was not sure what to think of it. Her mouth tightened just slightly.

"Are you going to try that again?" she asked.

He nodded.

"I think it's important. I know the sound annoys you, and I'm sorry, but I'm not giving up. There could be people out there, Viv, and some of them might find a way to send messages. I'll keep listening."

She nodded and watched as he turned on the thing and started fumbling with its buttons. It wasn't that she did not understand why, she did, but the radio had been something they had come across already a week after they had been on the road and so far, they'd had no luck insofar contact of any kind was regarded. The only thing coming out of the worn speakers was noise, white noise, and after a while, the sound had started to bother Viv. She found it both harsh and depressing. Yet Henry insisted. But, Viv had thought to herself on more than one occasion, if they did not know how to broadcast, nor had the means for it, how should anyone else be able to?

The water finally boiled. Viv turned off the gas and removed the pot. She poured it carefully into each cup noodle, stirred the content, then put the thin paper lids on again and sighed. More waiting. The instructions always said to leave the noodles to soak in the warmth for three minutes, but her experience told her it often took longer and so, she settled back on the floor, resigned. Her stomach loudly exclaimed its need for food. Henry was still busy with the white noise, going from channel to channel, without finding any voices or any music or anything that could even remotely indicate whatsoever that someone was alive out there and reaching out. Viv had long since given up hope. It was just her and Henry and somehow, they had to make that enough.

She sometimes feared that Henry's obsession with other people was because he had grown tired of her company and wished for people of his own age and intellect to share conversation with. Her brother was so very smart and had a whole nineteen years behind him to boot. She could imagine that her opinions and childish views could only be dull compared to that.

Viv checked the cup noodles. They were not quite there yet.

The white noise persisted. Viv grimaced and wanted most of all to clasp her hands to her ears in an attempt to drown out the annoying waves and beeps, but she did not dare from fear of angering or, even worse, hurting Henry. She did not mean to be difficult; it was just that she could not stand the emptiness of it.

She checked the noodles again.

"Dinner is ready," she announced. Henry finally turned off the radio.

"That sounds wonderful, kitten."

He called her that, sometimes, and it used to bother her because she did not see herself as a baby cat. She was too old to be a baby cat. But after the dead had started walking, she had found that there was some comfort in being called by her old nickname, which he had given to her sometime before her first memories. In her mind, he had always called her "kitten" without further ado. She had asked him about it once, when the first strands of annoyance had begun to haunt her mind every time that word came up, if he must always call her that? He had replied that of course he must, as she reminded him so of just such an animal: small and stubborn and clumsy, but with a fighting spirit and a bit of a temper to help her along.

She supposed now that it wasn't so bad to be compared to a cat, even if only a baby one. After all, cats were slick and fast, highly self-sufficient and, most importantly, were said to always land on their feet, no matter how long the fall. She would like to be that way. She would like to be a survivor, in spirit as well as in company. She wanted to, eventually, be able to support Henry the way he now supported her. They would be a team, not just a brother and his helpless little sister. Although she had always liked being the little one while their parents had been alive, now she yearned to be his equal in all things instead.

He was so strong. She too wanted to be as strong.

They ate in silence, but it was of the comfortable kind. Before the outbreak, dinner time had been when their family had all gathered and talked about the happenings of the day, about school, work, people they knew. They scarcely had any of that to discuss now, but sitting there quietly, just the two of them, still together, still able to actually _have_ dinner, was somehow reassuring, and they did not have to speak to make it so. Viv glanced at her brother and her eyes searched whatever parts of his body was left bare for wounds and, finding none, let out an inward sigh of relief.

When they had finished their cup noodles, Henry leaned back against the wall, his eyes focused on something in the invisible distance and his brows furrowed just the slightest. Viv knew that look; she understood what it meant, and when he spoke, she was confirmed in her suspicions.

"We have to move soon."

She looked down and nodded. She hated leaving, hated the danger of being _out there_ , with no safe place to return to. But they had stayed here for so long now, it seemed, that there were no more supplies to be found in the surrounding areas, and so they had to go if they wanted to keep eating. She knew that, and yet the very thought of it made a sudden sadness well up in her chest.

"I'm sorry, Viv." Henry seemed to be able to sense her mood. "But the place is empty."

"I know," she replied, and that was the end of it, no more to discuss. Moving was a harsh fact which she would have to face.

He looked at her for a while, then sighed and switched his attention to the radio again. She could not interpret that sigh. Did it mean that he expected more of her? What else was she supposed to say? Or maybe it was that he was disappointed in her, because she was not brave the way he was? The tightening in her chest increased till she could barely breathe, but still she did not speak for fear of getting her thoughts confirmed.

The white noise was there again, a constant flutter in the background.

Viv put the noodle boxes away and packed the cooking gear again so that it would be easy to grab would they have to leave in a hurry. Then she decided to try and block out the noise by focusing on the book which someone had left behind in this house. It was old and worn, like something that had been read many times. Whoever the previous owner, he or she must have loved the story of _Oliver Twist_. Viv found the language somewhat difficult, there were so many strange words she did not know, but it was still better than staring out into the nothingness of outside, and besides, Henry did not like her to look out the windows, afraid something (or someone; she still did not know for certain how to address the undead) might notice them and start pounding on the door.

Then, so suddenly it made Viv jump, music sounded.

She stared at Henry who stared at the radio. The white noise was gone. It had been washed out, by _actual music_. The lyrics to some song she vaguely recognized flooded into the room and seemed to bring a new light to the things around her, and the sound, though strong, seemed at the same time so fragile that Viv caught herself holding her breath for fear of breaking the illusion that the moment might be.

" _Hit the road, Jack, and don't you come back no more, no more, no more, no more …"_

Could she be imagining it?

" _Hit the road, Jack, and don't you come back no more …"_

Henry let out his breath, and it was not until that moment that Viv realized he had been holding his too. Then he sighed.

"It's probably just an old recording on rewind," he mumbled, and she was unsure whether it was to himself or to her that he spoke. "But let's let it run and see what happens. I need to pop out for a bit. Be right back," he told her.

It was a code, had always been. He was not actually going _out_ ; it was just that even with everything that had happened he was still somehow too shy to actually speak out the word "toilet" or even "bathroom" in front of his little sister, and she could not help but find this weird quirk of his slightly funny. For the moment, however, even that seemed unimportant. She was still staring at the radio.

" _Oh baby, listen baby, don't you treat me this a'way. Cos I'll be back on my feet someday."_

Actual music.

" _Don't care if you do, call this understood: You ain't got no money, you just ain't no good …"_

She thought of the mp3 player she still carried around in her backpack, for some reason unbeknownst to her, for it had long since run out of battery and there were no longer any places left to charge it. But the idea that all her songs may be lost forever had saddened her so, and therefore she simply could not find it in her to leave it behind. Music had been her savior so many times, both in the early days and before that. It had been the way she could close herself off from the world when things around her became too much, too unbearable, too incomprehensible.

She had not known exactly how much she had missed it until that one song on the radio. Even if it really was only an old recording, she did not mind.

Viv leaned back, closed her eyes, and enjoyed the last bit of the song.

" _Don't you come back no more …_

 _Oh, now, baby, please._

 _Don't you come back no more …_

 _Whatcha trying to do to me?_

 _Don't you come back no more …"_

The song faded into silence for a moment and that feeling of sadness returned to her chest.

But then suddenly, the silence was broken by the voice of a man.

" _Haha, very funny, Eugene. If you'd wanted me to leave, you could have just said so."_

Another man's voice, this one American (he could be from anywhere over there; she had not learned to distinguish their accents, they all just sounded somehow _weird_ to her), and he seemed amused at the first man's comment.

" _What? It's a classic; I just thought our listeners deserved to hear a classic."_

" _Yeah, and that's the one you choose? What a coincidence."_

The American laughed.

" _Well, you know,"_ he remarked after a moment, _"if you_ did _hit the road again one day, I'd be there with you. I wouldn't kick you out, and definitely not because of lack of money."_

" _You're just saying that because money's pretty useless these days anyway."_ The British man sounded less offended now.

" _Possibly,"_ the American half-agreed, _"but it's still a fact."_

They both laughed. Again, Viv was holding her breath while her mind was working overtime. Was this, too, a recording, a rewind? Could they have taped this long ago as well? Because no one had the resources, not to mention electronics, to host a radio station now, right?

Right?

" _I remember my old nan,"_ the British man was now saying. _"She was one of those old people who don't trust the banks because she thought if she put all her money in there, the government was going to take it away. So she_ stuffed _her mattress full instead and whenever she was going to buy something, she would zip it open and take whatever she needed."_

" _Seriously? I thought that kind of people were only an urban legend!"_

" _I know, right? It was completely insane! And it gets better."_

" _How so?"_

Viv was listening with a smile that was slowly growing. Even if these guys were only a recording, she liked them. She hoped they had not died, though she knew that was a highly unlikely thing. So far, Henry and she had seen nothing but corpses walking around.

" _Well, one day, old nan decides to get a cat. Which in itself isn't a bad thing, of course."_

" _Of course."_

" _Only at some point, this cat goes into a frenzy right on top of nan's bed, with claws and all, and_ rips it open _! So the money just flies out, right, all over the room, because it had been stuffed so tightly in there! And old nan just stands there, covered in notes, while the cat starts chasing the money!"_

" _You're kidding me!"_

" _I'm not! It really happened!"_

" _So I suppose she then realized that maybe putting her money in the bank was a good idea after all?"_

" _Oh no. No such thing."_

" _What, really?"_

" _Yeah. She returned the cat instead!"_

The two men laughed, and Viv laughed with them. After a moment, the laughter subsided and the British man became thoughtful.

" _You know, I suppose she's probably a zombie now, old nan."_

Viv stiffened and listened, her heart suddenly beating hard in her chest. A _zombie_ … They'd said _zombie_! Did this mean …

" _I can just imagine her walking around out there in her horrible purple night dress, biting people,"_ he continued. _"Well, at least then she'll get all of those repressed aggressions out."_

The other man replied something, but Viv did not hear it. She had jumped up and was running out of the room, toward the bathroom, yelling her brother's name, too excited to keep it in. The door slammed open and Henry, hurriedly trying to zip up his pants, caught her shoulder.

"Vivian, what the hell are you doing?" he hissed. "Stop screaming like that; the zombies are going to hear us!"

She clasped her hands over her mouth as she realized how much of a reckless fool she had just been and felt horrible … For a moment. Then the excitement of her discovery got the best of her again and she whispered,

"But there are _people_ on the radio! Actual people!"

His eyes widened.

"What do you mean, actual people?"

" _People!_ " she continued, almost breathless. "It's two men, one of them is British and one is American, and they are _talking_ to each other! They were saying something about the song, and then about some old lady with a cat and money in her mattress, and …"

"Hold it right there, Viv. Are you sure they're not just an old recording too? The radio does that sometimes, you know …"

" _Yes!_ " she exclaimed. "Because _then they were talking about zombies!_ "

Henry stared at her for a long moment, uncomprehending at first. Then he moved past her and raced back to the bedroom and the radio, Viv right behind him and glowing. By now, however, the voices had faded into another song, one Viv did not know, and so they sat down on the floor, eagerly awaiting the last tone to see if the two men would return.

They did.

" _Okay, listeners,"_ it was the American guy again, _"now we've got a few announcements for you …"_

As the men named places Viv and Henry did not know, people they had never met, the two siblings listened with an intensity as if this information was worth their lives. When the next song started playing, Henry sucked in a breath and looked at his sister and his eyes were glowing with a light that she had not seen there in a very long time, a light of _hope_ , as he grasped her hands.

"Do you know what this means, Viv?" he asked her. "It means there are others out there, still alive. It means we're _not alone_!"

She laughed with him as he got up and next thing she knew, they were hugging and singing and dancing around the room, both caught up in the exaltationof this new and unexpected discovery. They only stopped when Henry sobered up enough to realize that it would soon be getting dark outside and that they needed to be quiet now or the place would not be safe for much longer.

But even hours later, after they had blocked the door securely and gone to bed, the happy feeling did not leave Viv, and she lay awake, wondering about the men on the radio. Who were they? Where did they live? What did they look like? Who were those other people they had mentioned? For hours, she imagined the answers to her questions, only to find that this resulted in new questions and new answers, until, finally, exhausted, sleep overtook her and her thoughts stilled.


	2. Part 2

Two days later, they moved. Henry had told her they might have to go far, and Viv had attempted to prepare herself for that, had tried to convince herself that she would not be afraid, yet when they finally went _out there_ , she could feel the panic cripplingin her chest. He had set a course and she followed at his heels as they headed for what must be their destination. More than a few times they had to stop and hide so that zombies would not see them, and each time Viv could feel her heart beating loudly in her chest. She closed her eyes and tried to will it to quiet down, but it did not listen. She was relieved when they could once again be on the way.

She followed all of Henry's directions carefully as he was used to being out here more so than she. Only rarely had Viv been allowed to accompany him on a supply run; mostly he ordered her to stay put in their home of the moment, and though she knew it was because he wanted to keep her safe, still she sometimes thought it was also because _out here_ she was nothing but a nuisance. Henry knew how to move and be quiet all the while whereas she felt as if every step she took, however much she wanted it to be soft, resounded so much it made her suck back her breath.

She remembered the first time they had run for their lives, to get away from the city and the undead spreading with every bite. Their aunt Iris had been with them then and for a while, until they had lost her in a grocery store where a clerk had appeared from behind the counter. Viv recalled how his skin had hung loose and his chin had been draping over his mouth that was slowly coming apart at the sides. His shirt had been ripped at the chest and a dried, dark substance was forming a strange pattern on the white cotton. Henry later suggested that someone had shot the man, maybe for the supplies his shop was holding. Viv had not understood it then, why someone would murder for a tin of food, but she had later learned how valuable non-perishableswere, now, in this world.

The sun was slowly lowering in the sky. Henry glanced up at it frequently, Viv saw. He was nervous, which in turn made the panic in her chest bite harder. But she did not want him to notice, and so she kept quiet, afraid her voice would betray her anyway. They were close to a city by now, a small one from the looks of it, and she spotted what might have been someone's summer house before the world ended. It was hidden behind a line of trees and she could not see it well. Hesitantly, Viv pulled at her brother's sleeve.

He turned to face her.

"What is it, Vivian?"

She pointed. His gaze went in that direction and a smile formed on his face.

"That might do it, actually," he mumbled. "Come on, let's go check it out. Have you got your spear?"

Without a sound she held up the long broomstick from which Henry had removed the bristles and instead stuck a knife to it with almost an entire roll of duct tape. He wielded a baseball bat himself, but had told her she would be better off with something pointier, as she did not have the strength to take out a zombie with nothing but wood. The choice of broomstick was so that she need not get too close to the undead to kill them.

"Good. Just follow me, then."

"Okay." One word, at least, she could manage without shaking too badly.

As they neared the house, Viv could tell that it was bigger than she thought, though not as big as some of the ones they had stayed in before. It had two stories and a broken window, but it looked peaceful. Yet Henry still moved very carefully and so she followed his lead as he went in a circle around the place. There were no sounds in the air except the brush beneath their feet and the tree tops that danced lightly in the wind, and there was no one in sight. She caught a glimpse of a squirrel and found a smile forming upon her face at the sight. It had been so long since she had seen a living animal!

Henry stopped at the backdoor and signaled for Viv to stay put. She clutched at her home-made spear nervously and waited as he pushed at the door and found it unlocked. She glanced into the parts of the room that she could see behind his body and thought it seemed empty. Her assumption was confirmed as Henry nodded for her to come along and stepped inside.

They searched the rest of the house and found no one, neither living nor dead. The lock on the door was broken, but the rooms upstairs had locks on them too, so they barred the backdoor and the broken window, then placed their things in a small room that smelled strange and musty and so unoccupied that Viv thought it must be a guest room. The other bedroom up here was bigger and a sense of an old perfume still lingered in the air. She did not like it in there, and it seemed neither did Henry. There was something _wrong_ with living somewhere that seemed to bear a trace of its former owners even after this much time had passed.

While they ate a cold dinner, Henry tried the radio again, but it was silent like it had been the day before and for a moment Viv was afraid that she had imagined everything from two days ago, that it had all been a dream, a way to escape from the haunting white noise. But then Henry sighed.

"I guess they must be broadcasting during a specific time frame …" he mumbled.

Viv's heart skipped a beat in relief. It was not a dream after all.

"Maybe," she replied, then hesitated, unsure of what else to say. She knew nothing about radio and broadcasting. So instead she kept quiet and took another spoonful of red beans.

"Well, we'll stay here," Henry decided. "Then we can try again tomorrow. The way they talked, it sounded like a regular thing, right? So we should be able to find it again. I remember the frequency they used."

"That makes me happy," she told him. He smiled and reached over and hugged her.

"Yeah, kitten," he said. "It makes me happy too."

* * *

That night, she dreamt of people. They were talking and laughing and singing. She wanted to join them … but something was in the way. She tried to fight her way through it, but it was wet and sticky like a spider's net and she could not get anywhere. Then she realized that it was red and the smell hit her, the horrible smell of blood. And she screamed and she screamed, then remembered that she ought not to, yet now she could not stop, and in the distance she could hear someone moaning, getting closer …

She woke up bathed in sweat, shaking. The horrible dream was still clear in her mind and the longer it was stuck there, the closer she got to tears, until she could no longer hold them back and they began to flow. She pushed her head firmly into the pillow and tried to stifle her sobs so that at least she would not wake up Henry, but when she felt the familiar arm sneak around her anyway, part of her felt more relief than shame, and when he pulled her close and stroked her hair, she felt better, if only a little.

* * *

By morning, the nightmare was forgotten, with the sun high in the sky and the beautiful forest around the house. Viv felt that strange sort of happiness that was the closest thing she got to how she used to feel before everything had ended, and she even found it in her to hum a little song as she did the laundry. They could not carry much with them, and so they had to wash it quite often, after a couple of days' use. She remembered back when it was unthinkable to even put on the same shirt two days in a row. That time was long gone, and she was not sure whether she missed it. What she _did_ miss, however, were the opportunities to dress up nicely, to spend a long time staring at herself in the mirror while she tried on one dress after the other and her mother smiled and sometimes helped her decide.

The last time she had done that was three weeks before the outbreak. Viv had celebrated her thirteenth birthday then.

She thought again of the mp3 player in her bag. The device in itself had not been part of the gifts; it was far older than that, but some of the songs on it were from CDs she had received. She wished she could listen to them just once more.

As if some fairy godmother had fulfilled her wish, suddenly the sound of music reached her from behind the bed where Henry was sitting.

" _I know you're glad I called, now you can have it all …"_

She did not know the song that played, not really, but she vaguely remembered having heard it at a friend's place, and she remembered something about it being by a foreign artist, though the text was definitely in English.

" _When we're together you know how it should be, when you're drunk …"_

She swayed along to the beat and wished she knew the text, because all of a sudden she found herself with an almost unstoppable urge to _sing_ … So instead she kept humming along, sometimes stopping to find the right rhythm.

" _Maybe we should go and spend some time alone,_

 _Baby, you're so beautiful …_

 _When I'm drunk … When I'm druuuunk, yeah!"_

A small musical break, then what must be the refrain,

" _When I'm drunk in the morning, I'm calling you,_

 _You might be lonely, lonely._

 _When I'm drunk in the morning …"_

She liked this song, though the text was not flattering, and she wished she knew the title. As the tones faded out, Viv forgot about the clothes entirely and sat down next to Henry to listen to the voices she knew would be coming.

" _Really?"_ It was the British guy first. _"You can't see it? Not at all?"_

" _No,"_ the American replied. _"I'm really not with you there. I don't think he could be the type to drunk call a girl. I'm sticking with my first suggestion and I'm not changing it."_

She wondered who they were talking about.

" _Alright then."_ The British guy. _"Now that we're at the subject, have you ever drunk called someone?"_

" _Seriously?"_ She could almost hear the raised eyebrows. _"You're asking me that?"_

" _Yeah, I want to know."_

" _Well,_ if _I have – and that's an_ 'if' _there, people, not a yes – that will be a story for another time. Because we have got something new for you listeners today! We've got Dr. Myers with us in the studio and she is going to tell us all about how to stay healthy during the zombie apocalypse."_

" _Obviously avoid being bitten."_

" _Obviously, but apart from that, here are some tips on what to do when you can't find soap, sanitizer, or anything that looks even remotely like clean sheets. And it's all right after this song …"_

Another melody started playing and Viv smiled as she recognized the song. She glanced at Henry, he met her gaze, and they sang along quietly as the first line of text sounded,

" _I met you once, I loved you twice, that's the way this tale begins …"_

* * *

Over the next couple of days, Henry and Viv figured out that the radio show was broadcast for a couple of hours each day, just around what they supposed must be noon, but they did not have a clock to check it by. Viv enjoyed those hours. She often sat leaned against her brother as the two radio hosts talked and joked and played their songs, and for a little while she could forget that life was not normal anymore, and she liked that.

The hosts' names were Jack and Eugene, she noted. Jack was the British guy and Eugene was the American, who was actually Canadian (she never could tell the difference anyway). They had named their broadcasting station "Radio Abel" after the settlement in which they were living. Viv liked the idea of a settlement, and Henry liked it even more; so much so that he began brooding over the map they had brought with them in an attempt to locate this "Abel Township" of which the radio hosts talked, but the location of which they never explicitly gave, though they at one point did mention that there was a red light shining like a beacon during the night. She liked the idea of that too. She hoped she might one day see it.

And there were many other people at Abel too. Their faces were strangers to her, yet she soon learned to recognize certain names and even, sometimes, voices. There was Sam, a friend of the hosts', whom they described as a good guy and even sometimes teased. Dr. Myers, an actual alive doctor! Janine, of whom Viv was a little scared, because she sounded so harsh, even if what she talked about were practical things such as how to protect your home from the undead.

Then there were the Runners, people who went out to search for things that the settlement might need. She supposed they must be something like Henry, brave and fast and smart and selfless, enough so that they would risk their lives _out there_ , among the zombies. Henry, she decided, would make the best Runner of them all, should the two of them succeed in finding their way to Abel Township. And she really hoped they would, now. Although Viv liked being with her brother, she suddenly understood his search for people even back when the radio had given them nothing but white noise. It was a search for safety more than anything besides, and a search for the companionship of others who had lived through this hell. A search for people who _understood_.

* * *

They had stayed at the new house for almost three weeks when Viv's world ended. Again.

Everything started out as ordinarily as a day could be when dead people were walking around in the remnants of what used to be a normal society. Viv was preparing for lunch. Henry had been _out there_ hunting for supplies for a while now, and although she did not know whether or not he would be back to eat with her, she still took out enough corn and beans for him as well, although she did not open the cans meant for him. Instead, she simply stacked them in a neat pile before she leaned back against the bed and took out the old copy of _Redwall_ which she had discovered in the living room downstairs. This book she enjoyed more than she had _Oliver Twist_ , because at least the language was easy to understand and the plot less sad. She wondered whether it would be considered cheating to pretend for a little while that she herself lived in this happy world of which Brian Jacques wrote? She hoped not. She did not want to cheat, even if she did have a wish of getting away from reality, if only for a few hours.

She heard the door open downstairs. Like always, she hesitated, heart beating faster in her chest. It must be Henry, right?

Right?

The steps that climbed the stairs seemed somehow heavier than his. Viv stiffened. Should she hide, she wondered? She had never had the unfortunate experience of anyone _but_ Henry stepping through the door and so, she was unprepared and uncertain, and before she had reached a decision, her brother stepped in.

Except there was something wrong. She could tell instantly. Horribly wrong.

Viv put the book down and got up slowly. His curly hair was tangled, even more so than usual, and there was a streak of red across his forehead. His glasses were askew, and in his eyes was a sorrow so deep that she found herself struck with a panic that almost knocked out the air from her chest, yet she stayed still, very still, as he stepped forward. She had, of course, noticed the tear in his shirt right away, right at his shoulder, deep and red, but she tried to convince herself that it was not real, that she was imagining it, because it could not be real, it _could not_ be. No. Not him. Not Henry. Not her brother. No.

She did not want to look at him, yet at the same time found herself unable to look away. And his eyes found hers again and she could feel the lump in her throat even before he spoke.

"I'm sorry, Vivian," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."

She wanted to say something, but the words would not leave her throat.

"One of them got me. I was trying to get a window open and I didn't hear … I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she heard someone far away whisper in a voice that she recognized as her own. "It's just a scratch. We can clean it. We can … we can bandage it, and it'll be fine …"

"Vivian." He went over to her now, crunched down right in front of her and put his hands on her arms and she could see the horrible reality that was the wound on his shoulder, the wound that was ugly and bleeding and shaped like teeth … No. Not teeth. It could not be teeth. It could not! She trembled and tried to turn away, would not look at it, but his grip was firm and strong and she could not escape it, could not escape his words either, "It's a bite. You know what happens with a bite."

"No …" This time, her denial was an audible whisper and not just in her head. "No, no, _no_ , it's not a bite, _it's not_ , it just looks like one and it's _not,_ it's _not_ , _it's not!_ "

"Yes. It is." He did not sound angry at her for being a child about it, she thought meekly. "And you have to face it, as I have. It's a bite, and we don't have a lot of time. So now you have to listen to me, and carefully at that. Because there is something I need you to do for me, okay, Viv? Something important."

Viv did not want to do anything but lie down and cry. But his voice held her locked there even more so than did his hands, and although she could feel the entirety of her body shaking now, shaking badly, so much so that it made her eyes water (because it had to be the shaking that did that; she must not be weak in front of him, not now), she stayed still and listened.

"Okay. Good." He must have sensed that he had her attention now, took a deep breath, and continued, "I need you to pack our stuff, as much of it as you can carry. I'll help you as best I can. Will you do that for me, Vivian?"

She nodded uncertainly.

"Good. That's my girl. Okay." He seemed relieved, she noted. How could he be? How dare he be, when things were like this? When _he_ was like this? How dare he? "We'll do that now. And when we're done, I need you to do one more thing for me: I need you to take that bag, and then I need you to run and get as far away from me as possible."

It took a moment for his words to hit her through the odd daze in which she found herself to stop the panic from taking over her chest, her body. But when she understood what he was telling her, she flared up.

" _No!_ " Her voice was almost nothing but a shriek, yet she barely noticed.

"Yes, Viv, you have to."

" _No!_ I _won't_! You can't make me!"

"Vivian, there's no choice in this." Still his voice was firm and calm, too calm for this, too calm for her to handle. "I need you to stay alive. You _have_ to run. Don't you see?"

"No, _no_ , I'm not leaving you, no, please, Henry, don't make me, _don't_ , I don't want to!" The tears were streaming now – she could not hold them back – leaving trails of salty water down her cheeks, because Henry was demanding her to do the impossible, was telling her to go, to be _alone_.

She sobbed. He took her in his arms, held her tight, her head on the shoulder that was unhurt, and she wanted to pretend that both of his shoulders looked like that, to keep denying, but he would not let her, it seemed, because he spoke again, his voice soft, so soft, so familiar, and her protests died in her throat, overcome by the sobbing that she could not seem to control, by the shaking that had taken over her body.

"I'm sorry, kitten," he whispered as he rocked her gently, back and forth, back and forth, as if she was still a babe, "I'm really, really sorry. But you have to make it on your own now. I know you can do it."

"No," she told his shoulder, "I can't, I can't, I'm not strong, oh, Henry …"

"Yes, you are, Vivian. So much stronger than you think. You always were." He held her out in front of him again so he could look at her and she could see salty water running down his cheeks too now, but still he smiled at her, and she nearly choked in her tears again. "Remember what we talked about, kitten? How we were going to find Abel Township? I told you we were going south, right?"

She nodded again, afraid of her own voice now, of the shrill of it.

"That's what you need to do. Take the map with you. Go to the area we marked. If I'm right, that's where it is. You'll find it, Vivian, I know you will. But you have to be brave. Can you do that for me, little sister?"

"I …" She sobbed again. "I don't know. If I can. Without you. Be brave."

"You're a big girl, Viv." His voice broke too, now. "You'll be brave, see. I believe in you. Okay? You can do this."

Viv was not sure he was right. But before she could protest again, he held her tight in his arms, and she cried, and he cried, and they stayed like that for a long time. When at last he let go, she clung to him for a while longer. Because part of her knew that this would be the last time she would ever get to really hug him, and she could not bear for the moment to be over. She felt his arms around her one more time, those safe, strong arms. Then he gently loosened her grip.

They packed in silence. Viv did not like the silence. Not this time. But she did not know what to say to break it, because no words any of them knew could make it comfortable. Not this time. Not ever again.

When at last the rucksack was packed, Henry had gone pale and sweaty and slightly unsteady. He tried to hide it from her, but she could tell, she was no fool. He was sickening, like their dad had, and their mom, and her friend Caroline from school. They had all sickened, and then they had died. She did not want Henry to die, yet she knew it was not in her power to stop it. Never had she believed less in any gods than in that moment. A god would never let anyone die like this and leave her on her own.

Her brother put a hand on her shoulder and sent her a brave smile. There was something behind it, something that she sensed in his eyes too, something that made her want to comfort him, to tell him, with certainty this time, that everything was going to be okay, although she knew she would be lying, like they always did in hospital movies. Instead, she hugged him again, for the very last time.

"I love you, Henry," she told him in a whisper, though she had meant for it to be louder. "Thank you for being my brother."

There was a lump in his throat as he stroked her hair, for the very last time.

"I love you too, Vivian. My little kitten. Live, for me, okay?"

"I promise," she told him, unsure of whether she could keep it.

She saw the gun they had found months ago lay on the bedside table as she walked out the door. The gun with the power to kill you so you stayed dead.

Viv had reached the edge of the forest when she heard the shot ring through the strange silence of the day and the tears hit her again. But she closed her eyes and her ears for everything but the road in front of her and kept walking. Henry had told her to be brave, and so she must, at least, try to be.

She did not know how far she had walked before her courage deserted her and she slid down against the wall of some house she did not recognize. Inside, it felt as if all of her intestines were wriggling together, pain shooting through them, through her entire body, until she felt as if she could scream and never stop screaming, yet none of it reached the part of her that was outside. She simply sat there and stared out into the sun that seemed to be mocking her, for how could it be shining on such a day as this? She felt as if she would never again like anything, and especially not the sun.

She remembered something from a night long ago, just after they had lost Aunt Iris. They were sleeping on the floor of an old tool shed. She had been crying then, too, she recalled, but Henry had held her and stroked her hair until she had calmed. There had been silence in the darkness of the place for a long time, and he must have thought her asleep.

"I promise to keep you safe for as long as I can," he had mumbled then, still stroking her hair. "I'm afraid that's all I can give you, kitten."

He had not known that she had only pretended not to hear. And his words scared her, because they spoke of the idea that one day he might not be there anymore, and then she would have to be all alone in this world, and she was not sure she could be.

Now, it seemed, she would have to.


	3. Part 3

Viv did not know how many hours had passed before she once again got up from the ground, nor did she care. There was no one in sight; even the zombies seemed to have abandoned this area, and she felt a sudden urge to run, to flee, to get as far away as possible. But darkness was coming and she knew that she needed to find a place to sleep if she was to uphold her promise to Henry. The thought of his words, his wish for her to be brave, was the only thing that made her force her body forward, one step after another, until finally she reached another house away from the city.

Viv almost pushed the door open before she remembered that she ought to be careful. Afraid now, feeling the ripples of panic in her chest again, she grasped her spear so hard that her hand hurt and shook, and stepped inside, closing behind her so that nothing else, at least, would enter. Then she stopped and listened, again trying to still that loud beating of her heart, and failing.

Less than a minute passed, but it felt as if she had been standing there for hours, before she heard it. A moaning from the other room. She sucked in a breath and was overcome by an overwhelming urge to run, but knew she could not. There were no other houses in sight, nowhere else to stay, and darkness was falling. So she stepped toward the sound instead of turning away from it, and found a kitchen. There, on the floor, lay half a zombie, its legs missing, and yet again Viv wanted to run. But she kept herself there, in the room, with the crawler, and, hands shaking still, lifted her spear and struck.

The zombie stopped reaching for her; its arm fell to the floor, and it was silent. A wave of panic rushed through her, now, when she had done what must be done, and she grasped at the wall, catching a corner of the doorframe, and managed to keep herself steady.

There were no more sounds in the house. But still she forced her unwilling mind to walk her body all the way through the place before she barricaded herself in the living room. Here, she unpacked her bedroll (they had found some, Henry and she, when the cold first set in) and pulled it tightly around her body. She knew, part of her, that she was hungry, yet she did not want to eat. She did not want to do anything.

In the end, she found the small radio stuffed at the top of her bag, and though she knew that it was too late an hour for Jack and Eugene to be hosting their show, still she turned it on. Nothing but the white noise came out of the speakers, but for the first time ever Viv found that sound reassuring. She knew she ought to turn it off again, to preserve the batteries, yet she did not want to. In the end, she lay awake for hours, listening to the sound. Then she finally did the sensible thing. Because that was what Henry would have done.

The thought of him haunted her that night, and each time she woke from another nightmare, she prayed that it had all been a dream, an evil dream, and that he would once again take her in his arms and make everything better. But every time she had to face that it happened, that he was gone, and that she was all alone now.

Yet she held back her tears, afraid that if she started crying, the creatures in the night would hear her and find her and tear her to pieces. When morning came, however, she curled up into a ball on the couch and allowed the tears to come, and she cried and she cried until, finally, it seemed like there was nothing left in her. She was empty.

That was when she reached for the radio once again, hoping that the white noise had been replaced by music. But it was not yet time, so she sat up and stared at the speakers, at the small buttons, at the once pretty table on which she had placed it, and she waited, till the white noise brushed up and then disappeared, and Jack's voice sounded,

" _Hello there, listeners, and welcome to another couple hours with Radio Abel! I've got Eugene here with me, as always, and we're going to present you with some great music, as well as practical information, and, uh, other important subjects."_

" _Meaning whatever comes to mind as we go along,"_ Eugene added. _"But we'll start with the useful info. Here is a list of the areas that are currently off limits unless you're looking to befriend the zoms."_

As they talked, Viv found Henry's map and looked at it. She knew where she was at the moment; Henry had marked it for her days ago, and she studied the area until she dared let her eyes glance down at the place in which Abel Township might be. She had not learned to interpret a map, not really, but she recalled how Henry had guessed that there must be at least a week's travel on foot to reach it, if they were even right in the town being there. Another wave of desperation nearly knocked her out, but she picked herself up and attempted to firmly tell herself that Henry was right, as he always was. If she wanted to find Abel, she must go south, and so she would.

Jack ended the segment and put on a song from his ipod, from which, she had learned, most of their songs came. This one she knew very well.

" _I'm gonna marry the night,_

 _I won't give up on my life,_

 _I'm a warrior queen, live passionately tonight._

 _I'm gonna marry the dark,_

 _Gonna make love to the stark,_

 _I'm a soldier to my own emptiness, I am a winner,_

 _I'm gonna marry the night …"_

Viv thought of the mp3 player still in her pocket. Perhaps, when she reached Abel Township, she could give it to Jack and Eugene and they would have more songs to play. She imagined their happiness at that, could almost hear them thank her heartily, and she kept that picture in her mind, even though she still did not even know what they looked like. She would like to find out.

She only wished that she could have found out together with Henry instead of like this.

Viv listened intently to the voices and the music for the hours they lasted. For a while, she could pretend that yesterday had never happened, that in a moment Henry would be back with her, and she felt an almost physical pain when in the end the two hosts said their goodbyes for the day and ended with their trademark,

" _Stay safe out there, guys."_

Then the radio faded and the white noise was back. She turned it off and sat in the silence for a long time … before she finally opened her backpack again and pulled out a tin of peas. Henry would have told her that she needed to eat to stay strong, and she knew she could not stay safe out here unless she was just that.

And now she had a mission. She was going to Abel Township and she was going to deliver her mp3 player to Jack and Eugene so they could use the music it held on their show. It would be her focus, and she needed one such if she were to keep her promise to Henry, to be brave and live, for both of them.

* * *

For days afterwards, Viv's life turned to a new pattern. Every day she would wake up, eat a bit of breakfast, and listen to Jack and Eugene. Then, when the show was over and there was nothing left but white noise again, she would turn off the radio, grab her bag, and be on her way. She tried to read the map and go south, but for a while she was uncertain as to whether she was doing it correctly. But then she found a town whose location she had seen on the map and been heading for and knew she was on the right track.

The nights were the hardest. Without Henry and with no Radio Abel to distract her, she found it difficult not to give in to the fear that she would succeed in suppressing during the daytime. Then she could lay awake for hours, sometimes shaking, sometimes silently sobbing into the pillow, sometimes both. She was relieved when the sun was yet again up and she could pretend the night had never been. It was the only way she could get by.

She thought often of Abel Township, wondered what it must be like. She imagined the people there, those people that did not all seem quite like strangers to her anymore, though she knew not their faces, imagined herself as one of them. More often than anything, she imagined the moment when she would hand over her mp3 player to Jack and Eugene and the conversation that would follow. She began to keep the scenario firmly in her mind every time the night closed in, and it was never quite the same; often some thing would change, but they were always happy to meet her. And when the silence became too much, too unbearable, Viv would repeat those conversations, would whisper them to herself, as if trying to convince herself that she was not all alone in a big house or a small house or a tool shed for the night, with the moans of the occasional zombie or the fearful herd audible outside.

Then one day the radio would not turn on. She pressed the button again, and again, and once more, tried to adjust the channel, but nothing happened. Viv sat down and stared at the small device, willing it to start, though she knew things did not work like that, and still nothing happened. The longer she sat there, the more the silent panic spread in her stomach, up through her chest, her throat, until she could barely breathe and her eyes watered. No. No, this could not be happening. No, she could not lose this too, no, _please no_ …

She did not know for how long she sat there motionless, but eventually the panic seeped out and down through the floor and gave way to the more sensible part of her. The radio wasn't necessarily broken. It was more likely that it had run out of battery. _That_ she could fix. So she got up and looked through the cupboards in the cottage she had slept in, checked all the drawers, even the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, but without luck. Then she had a sudden thought and opened the remote control, but when she tried its batteries she realized that they were long dead.

Did this mean she would have to go into the city after all?

She shuddered at the thought. Though it was more of a small town than a city as such, she still knew that there would be a higher density of zombies there than out here in the countryside, and she did not much like the idea of coming any closer to the undead. But she supposed there was nothing else to do if she did not want to lose Radio Abel.

So Viv got up, put on her jacket and, spear in hand, ventured out into the day. The sky was cloudy and grey and very possibly holding in rain. She put up her hood and ran, only slowing down when she neared the first couple of houses that marked the city border. When she crossed that, she knew, she might be on dangerous ground, and so she stepped carefully as she continued.

Her heart was beating fast, but the last week (or was it more? She had forgotten to count the days) had steadied its pace _out here_ and she did no longer feel the need to flee the way she had before, because there was no one to hide behind even if she did so, no one to rely on for getting her what she needed. She had not truly understood how much more than comfort Henry had provided until she was without him. If she had, maybe she would have been better at joining him on supply runs. She did not let herself think the thought that lurked in her mind behind the realization, the one that would tell her that she might have been able to stop the zombie that got him had she gone with him …

The window of a house on the corner of the next street was broken, but the door still closed. Almost daring to hope that meant it was empty, Viv climbed through the frame and landed on her feet, without falling the way she had often done in the early days, and looked around. It was a kitchen, a small one, with nothing but electronic devices. Nothing driven by batteries. She continued out into a small hallway in which one door, she guessed, led to the staircase and another to a different room. When she carefully opened it, she found it to be a living room, and she smiled.

She looked through the drawers and cupboards and finally found what she needed: An unopened pack of batteries. Quickly, she stuffed it in her pocket and went back to the kitchen. From the window, she could see a couple of zombies head down the street and she kept quiet while she waited for them to be gone. Then she crawled out and heaved herself downonto the grass surrounding the place.

As she stood there and looked around once more, suddenly a reckless curiosity she did not know she possessed seized her and Viv made her way down the street, past trash and abandoned cars and bikes, toward the corner that she guessed must lead to the main road toward the city center. Her heart was still pounding fiercely in her chest, but now she was, for but a moment, an adventurer. A part of her could not help but wonder whether the cities really _were_ as bad as Henry had told her? He had said they were swarming with zombies, but so far all she had seen were lonely strays. Could it possibly be that he had been wrong (she hardly dared think that way about her brother!), or maybe that things had now changed, that the undead were vacating as there was nothing more left for them to eat? And what if she was the only one to know, to dare check, dare hope? Then there would be so much food she could gather and bring with her south, and she would no longer have to rely on the dusty cupboards of her homes-for-a-night to hold anything still edible!

She was shaking, she realized, as she reached the corner, almost not daring to go past it anyway, afraid of what she might find there. So she took a deep breath to steady herself and found her adventurer spirit again. Then she stepped forward.

It did not seem so bad. The street was not much different from the one she had just been on and that made her feel comfortable enough to continue. At the far end, she could make out five zombies, and Viv knew she should not get too close because at least at this distance she doubted very much that they would notice her if only she kept silent, so she did. After a few hundred meters, however, she lost part of her nerve and hid behind a dumpster, peering around it to keep an eye on the undead as they shambled mindlessly around in circles. Her heart was starting to beat loudly again, very much so, and she put a hand on her chest in an attempt to quiet the sound, though she knew it was no use. Perhaps she ought to get out of here and back to the house before anything dangerous might happen. She peered up at the sun for a moment, but she had never quite learned to tell time that way and so she did not know whether she was already too late to listen to at least a little Radio Abel today.

Suddenly, a strange sound began from the distance, and Viv grimaced and covered her ears. It was loud, almost like a siren, except not quite the same, and it seemed to originate from somewhere further into the city, or perhaps even on the other side of it? She wasn't sure.

She was not the only one to notice, however. The strange sound seemed to draw out the zombies. The five on the street stopped going in circles and began instead to wander in the direction of the sound, and for a moment, Viv felt relieved that they were heading away. But then suddenly, more of the walking dead appeared from the adjacentstreets, and Viv held her breath as she saw the number of them. At first, there were perhaps ten. Then another flock appeared, and another, and as they grew in numbers, her panic grew with them. She got up and had enough sense left to quietly back away, back to the corner she had rounded. Once out of sight, she ran, and she ran, and she did not stop even when she was once again out of the city, did not even slow down. It was not until she was safe behind the walls of the cottage that she allowed her legs to slow and stop and give in, and she sat there, out of breath and out of courage, against the wooden wall. No, she promised herself, she would never go into the cities again, _ever_! She bit her lip to stop the tears that were once more close to taking over.

Then her gaze landed on the radio on the table. Still shaking, she got up and walked towards it, suddenly able to ignore the way her legs burned, unused to the speed she had set. Viv sat down and pulled out the pack of batteries from the city house. She needed to change them. It was important. Even more so now, at this moment of doubt that had suddenly hit her. Then she pushed the on button.

" _I raise my flag and dye my clothes,"_ the tones of a song Viv did not remember was the most welcome sound she could have possibly heard right now,

" _It's a revolution, I suppose;_

 _We're painted red to fit right in, whoa …"_

She sat down and took it in, enjoyed every second that ticked by too quickly, every word of the lyrics that continued for a few minutes until the last chorus after which, she knew, she would hear the voices she had come to depend more upon than anything else in this grey world because they made her feel less lonely.

" _I'm waking up; I feel it in my bones_

 _Enough to make my system blow,_

 _Welcome to the new age …"_

And those moments of almost-companionship was the only thing that kept her going still. The thought that she might, one day, not too far from now, reach that sanctuary that Abel Township represented to her. A city in which she might be _safe_ and, though she barely dared hope so, perhaps even almost _happy_. Without Henry, she knew, she would never be truly glad again, but at least in Abel Township maybe she would not have this constant need to cry in the back of her mind. She was tired, so very tired, of being alone in a hostile world. She would like to stop running now.

" _I'm radioactive, radioactive ..."_

The last tones of the song slowly died out and Viv pulled her bedroll around her and waited for Jack and Eugene. She could still feel the pounding of her heart and the adrenaline it was spreading in her body, could still when she closed her eyes see the mass of zombies, still hear the strange siren mixing in with the mindless moans. The sounds seemed to grow inside her and wash out everything else until she felt as if she was drowning in them. She reached for the radio then, pulled it closer to her, and fought to regain her sense of here and now, of safety and calm and maybe, just maybe, a strange beginning sense of happiness at the voices of Jack and Eugene. And although she barely comprehended what they were saying, she still felt her heartbeat slow minute by minute until, at last, the city panic had been washed out of her chest and she could embrace again the goal she had set.


	4. Part 4

She stayed another night in the cottage, too exhausted to leave that day. Then she packed up her things and checked Henry's map again before Radio Abel was on. Still uncertain as to where exactly she was and what road she ought to follow, she could only hope that she was getting closer. There was a big city on the map in the area that Henry had circled. Perhaps it was the one she had been in yesterday.

Not daring to think too much about that lest she might panic again, Viv quickly switched her attention to the radio and turned it on to find the white noise. It only lasted a couple of minutes, however; she was getting good at the timing. Then the well-known radio hosts began their show.

" _Hello, listeners, and welcome back to another segment of Radio Abel!"_ Eugene began. _"Jack and I were just talking about the things we miss the most. And Jack was saying that he would very much love a soft bed again."_

" _Yes!"_ Jack replied. _"You know, I'd love to be able to actually buy a brand new bed again instead of that old thing we sleep in now. Not that I could really afford to do that a whole lot before, but let's not lose focus."_

" _Right."_ Eugene sounded amused.

" _I even suggested to Janine that we could send Runners out to get new beds for everyone at Abel…"_

" _Everyone being him."_

" _Shut up, 'Gene. Anyway, she said they are too heavy and that, I quote, 'If you want a new bed, Mr. Holden, you're going to have to drag it back here yourself'. Well, thank you, Janine. Most kind of you. I will do that as soon as I find a radioactive spider to bite me."_

" _A radioactive spider?"_

" _Yes! I mean, we've got zombies. They have to be around here somewhere, don't they?"_

This made Eugene laugh.

" _Alright, listeners, and on that hopeful note, here's a song for you."_

The song started playing and Viv recognized it; it was one that she had on her mp3 as well, the first song from her playlist she had heard them play. She could not wait till the day Jack and Eugene would have more of them.

" _I remember tears streaming down your face_

 _When I said 'I'll never let you go',_

 _When all those shadows almost killed your light …"_

Viv hummed along to the soft melody, wishing, not for the first time, that the music would never stop playing and the voices go on forever. But it did stop, eventually, and she put the radio into the rucksack, checked that she still had her mp3 in her pocket, then picked up the bag and went out the door.

She had figured that she must need to get to an area on the other side of the city, and even though most of her greatly wanted to go in as big a ring around it as possible, the sensible part knew that the quickest way was to follow its outlines fairly close. So she kept sight of the many houses as she walked between the bushes and trees and flowers growing wild, more wild, she supposed, than they would have been allowed to had there still been people living around these parts. Somewhere ahead, she could see what looked like a road, possibly a freeway, and she smiled. The map had one like that too. Maybe she really _was_ getting closer! If Henry had been right, she would soon arrive at her destination. If not …

She shook her head. Of course he had been right. There could be no room for silly thoughts in her mind, especially not know. She had to believe that in a couple of days at most, she would be at Abel Township. The mp3 player in her pocket felt steadying and comforting as she reached down a hand and squeezed it.

It took her half an hour or so before she reached the freeway. She noticed the small hill up ahead before she saw the fence on top of it that had once made sure that drivers stayed on the road and did not accidentally go off to the side and down into the ditch, risking their lives by crashing their cars and the lives of others by risking an explosion that might set the place on fire. She trod carefully as she moved through the grass and, reaching the man-made hillside itself at last, took a firm hold of whatever she could find that may hold her weight and started climbing.

It was not that steep, yet the bag and her spear weighed her down, and twice she lost her footing; she felt her heart reach her throat in those moments, afraid that she might fall and injure herself, but both times she managed to hold on and could keep climbing. At last she could crawl under the fence and onto the asphalt that made up the road. Here she stopped to look around at the remains of what had once been the main route into the city.

So many cars still remained here, yet the place looked desolate and sad, and the strange surrealism of her current surroundings made her feel lonelier than she had in the country side. Some of the cars were missing parts of their windows or were otherwise broken, others had been stained with blood that had long since dried, but most cars seemed only parked, as if their owners would soon return, unlock them, and drive away from the insanity of the apocalyptic world that was now their reality. Viv stood there, among the deserted cars, and did not, for a long moment, know what to do with herself. Then she firmly reminded herself that she ought to get going. She had places to be. So she made her way through the line of ghost cars to the fence on the other side, taking great care as she did so to keep an eye out for any of the undead that might still be left here, stuck somehow, along with their vehicles.

She was about to descend the other side of the hill when suddenly, she heard something that she had not, for a long time, experienced while out here. She heard voices.

Hesitating, she stopped and looked around. At first, she could see nothing different from before. But the voices got closer, and so she got up again and tried to locate them. They were not coming from the city itself. Instead, they were nearing from the part of the road that led out into rural territory. Heart beating fast, Viv waited, uncertain of what to expect from a meeting with strangers. She had tried no such thing when she had been with Henry, not since the very early days in which Aunt Iris had still been with them, and that had led to nothing but parting ways. What could this lead to?

As the voices got closer, she could tell that they were male. Less than a minute later, she saw them approach, on foot, three sturdy men with backpacks, one of them holding an axe, one with a knife in his belt, the third with a branch in hand. She grasped her spear harder, but her heart beat a hopeful melody despite her caution.

"Hey." One of them had noticed her. "Hey, look. Isn't that a girl? Over there. No, over _there_ , you idiot, can't you see where the fuck I'm pointing? _There!_ "

The second man held up his hand to shadow his eyes and make him better able to see.

"Shit, I think you're right, Damon. What, d'you think she's a walker?"

"Fuckhead, why would a walker be holding a fucking stick?"

"Shut up, both of you!" the last man cut in. "Can't you see you're bloody scaring her?"

He was right. Viv was looking at them with suspicion clear in her face. She did not like the way they spoke. Henry and his friends had never spoken to each other in that tone and with those words, at least not any time she had listened to their conversations. The only reason she had not yet moved from her spot was because part of her was hoping that these men might be able to help her find Abel Township, that perhaps they knew people there and could point her in the right direction, even, perhaps, bring her there. Because could it be that she was being too quick to judge them, simply because of the language which they used?

"Hey, girl," the one who had spoken last took a few steps forward and held out his hand, although she was not yet within reach of it, "what's your name?"

"What are you doing, Earl?" the man called Damon asked. "We can't bring a _kid_ with us; it'd be too much trouble. Bet she can't do nothing useful!"

"Shut the fuck up," Earl hissed back at him, lowering his voice to a tone that Viv knew that she was not supposed to be able to hear, yet still she caught the words, "I just want her, man. I haven't had a woman in _months_!"

"But …" the first man eyed her uncertainly, "… she's a fucking _kid_ , Earl."

"So?"

"So that's just _sick_ , man!"

"Who's going to stop me? You?"

A threatening movement with the axe in his hand made the doubter step back and shrug in reply, eyeing the weapon nervously, as if he had seen it used one too many times on other things standing in the way of the wielder. Viv, understanding their conversation and suddenly feeling sick, began to back away. But then Earl turned back towards her and as he saw her move away, he took another couple of steps forward.

"Don't be scared, hey," he said, with a coaxing voice as if trying to lure in a prey to his trap. "We're not going to h- … Aw, shit, man, she's running!"

And so she was. Viv had turned her back on him and was sprinting down the freeway toward the city. She knew it would be crawling with zombies like she had seen just yesterday, but if she had to choose between the two evils, she had no doubt what she would prefer; at least the zombies could only kill her. She heard the man give chase, his heavy footsteps resounding through the ground, getting closer to her. The backpack was slowing her down, she realized with a sense of dread, and suddenly, her movements were halted for a second as the man managed to grab a hold of her bag. Despairing, Viv, in some way that she later did not fully comprehend, succeeded in freeing herself of the rucksack and sped on, leaving both it and the spear that she had had to let go of in the process behind. She heard the man swear behind her and take up chase, but without the bag she was smaller and lighter and _faster_ , and she ducked her way past cars and other obstacles and quickly got a way ahead of him.

Then a thought hit her. Her rucksack held everything she owned. The food. The map. The _radio!_ Viv hesitated. Part of her wanted to go back for it, knew that she _needed_ those things, desperately, to stay alive, to keep going. But the other part of her was scared, knew what would happen if she let the man catch her. The two sides of her fought one another as she half turned … Then her gaze fell on the man still behind her, but gaining now that she had paused, and the second part won. Her legs began to move again, faster, faster still, until she ran as fast as she could and entered the city.

She could hear the voices of the other men behind her too, now, but their words were not for her. Instead, they were calling on their comrade, reminding him that everybody knew that the city was crawling with walkers, that it wasn't worth it, that he would get himself killed in the process. Fortunately, it seemed the man's sense of survival was strong enough to make him see sense; soon after, the footsteps were no longer echoing behind her. Yet once again, Viv could not stop herself running.

In the end she had to stop when her legs almost buckled under, and she grabbed a hold of the nearest wall. She was still in the outskirts of the city, having thought clearly enough to turn right as soon as she could and keep going that way instead of continuing straight ahead towards the city center. On the way, she had seen a few zombies in the distance, but she had kept going and soon lost sight of them. Now she held on to the wall as she felt her body suddenly shaking and tears well up in her eyes. She sobbed, could not seem to stop herself, and before she really knew that it was happening, she was crying forcefully and horribly. She had lost _everything_. _Everything!_ What was she going to do now? Without food, without Henry's map, without Radio Abel? How would she ever have any chance of finding Abel Township, of finding Jack and Eugene and the rest of them? How was she going to survive out here, all on her own, again, for real this time?

She had been telling herself that everything would be fine as soon as she found Abel Township, that people would be happy to welcome her in, to keep her safe. But now she knew that it was nothing but a lie; a stupid, childish lie, just to keep herself going. Without Henry, she was nothing, _nothing_ , except some lonely girl that did not know anything about the world and how to live in it, much less now that everyone were dead and yet still walking! Well, there was no point in lying to herself anymore: She was going to _die_ , and it would not be long. And the thought did not, at the moment, seem as terrifying as it had before. Because if she died, then at least it would all be over.

She sank down against the wall and stared at the ghostly street in front of her without really seeing it. But as she moved, she felt something strike against her side, something in her pocket. She knew what it was even before she put her hand down to feel it. Her mp3 player. The one she had planned on handing over to Jack and Eugene. The one Henry had given her for her birthday once.

Henry … She had _promised him_ to live for them both. How could she, even now, dishonor such a promise? How could she give up when she had told him she would try to be strong, like him? There was no easy way out. She _couldn't_.

So Viv got up, on legs that were still shaking and threatening to give in from exhaustion. She put one foot in front of the other foot. One foot, then the other. One foot, and repeat. First of all, she must get out of the city again. The sun was still up in the sky. She still had a couple of hours before the darkness descended, and she must find a place to sleep before that. One foot in front of the other foot. One foot.

* * *

When night fell she had gotten out of the city, but not far enough yet to have reached a place in which to sleep. It was at least forty-five minutes since she had last seen a glimpse of anything that could even remotely look like housing and that had still been a way off. Her feet carried her forward, but she could not even convince her mind to change directions. One foot in front of the other foot. One step, then one more. That was all she focused on. It kept her from thinking too much of her desperate situation.

By the time she reached a small group of trees and bushes placed like a sanctuary for animals in the middle of miles and miles of fields, she was starting to give up. She was cold; the sweat from her run earlier was still clinging to her body underneath the jacket and she did not have another shirt to change into or a bedroll to help warm her up anymore. But she did not really care, because the hunger in her stomach was worse. She ought to have stopped somewhere earlier, even if it had been in the city; she should have taken the chance just for one night. Yet she had been afraid; it had been too close to the zombies, and too close to the three men. And so she had kept walking.

Then she saw it, as she reached the other side of the trees. There, in the distance: A red light, shining like a beacon in the falling darkness. Answering the call in the weary heart of the lost girl.


	5. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

In the communications shack of Abel Township, radio operator Sam Yao was sitting, monitoring the return of the last Runner out in the field for the day. His eyes were carefully watching the screens before him that were showing footage from the cameras the people of the township had long since put up to keep a careful watch on the surrounding areas, and though tired he kept his focus by munching on one of his Curly Wurlies, especially precious to him now that there was no longer the idea of an unlimited factory supply to depend upon, and so he saved them for special moments of need. The end of a very long day after a night with little sleep was such a moment. He wished he had not let himself be persuaded to a card game last night with Jack and Eugene.

"Alright, Runner Four, you're looking clear," he told his Runner over the radio. "There are no zoms in sight anywhere near … Wait. What's that?"

" _What's what, Sam?"_ Runner Four, Jody Marsh, replied, anxious as always at the subject of running into an unexpected enemy, especially of the flesh-eating kind. Sam did not reply at first; instead, he narrowed his eyes at the screens and stared at one of them, trying to make out the new moving object on it, just near the trees, as if it had only just exited the small forest near Abel not long ago.

"There's something moving near the woods …" he said. "It's … Yeah, it's definitely a person."

" _Is it a zombie?"_ Jody immediately replied.

"No, I … I don't think so. Whoever it is isn't shambling. It's … I think it's a _girl_!" His eyes widened as the figure on the screen slowly grew clearer as she moved onwards and entered a better camera angle. "Yeah. It's definitely a girl. And unless I'm much mistaken, she's alive. Jody …"

" _I'll check it out,"_ she replied, and Sam could see on his screen how she changed direction and looped back towards the forest. He waited, almost holding his breath at the thought that he might be mistaken about what he saw, but comforted himself with the knowledge that if it was indeed a zombie rather than a living person then Jody, fastest of the Runners only challenged by Five, would easily be able to avoid it and get back to Abel before any more of the undead showed up.

That turned out to be an unnecessary worry, however, as Jody, nearing the figure, spoke again,

" _You're right, Sam. It is a girl, and she's definitely alive. I'm bringing her in."_

"Yes," he told her earnestly, "do that. What's a girl doing out there, alone, this late?"

" _Only one way to find out, isn't there?"_ Jody had reached the girl now, and Sam could tell that her next words were not directed at him as she introduced herself and asked if the girl was alright, what she was doing here, and, importantly, whether she had been bitten. The replies she got were meek, almost too low for Sam to hear over the microphone in Jody's headset, but he did catch that they were negative; the girl was, at least according to her own statement, clear and unharmed. He followed them on the screens as they moved, slowly, toward Abel. As soon as they neared the gate, Sam gave the order for it to be raised and it was, accompanied by the well-known siren-like sound that was both a blessing and a constant source of worry for Sam Yao, depending on whether it meant Runners were coming home or going out. He hated to put them in danger, even if they all knew that what the Runners did was absolutely vital to the survival of the township.

With the last Runner now inside the protecting walls of Abel Township, Sam turned off the screens temporarily to save power and left the comms shack to have a closer look at Jody's companion. He found them just inside the gates, Jody supporting the girl who seemed to be just about ready to faint. She could not, he supposed from the look of her, be much more than in her early teens, perhaps about thirteen or fourteen years of age, and he again wondered what might have happened to her that had left her alone in the falling darkness so far from everything and everyone except the surrounding farm houses. Furthermore, she was in a weary condition, with only what seemed a thin jacket to keep her warm, and she did not carry any luggage at all. Her face was pale, her eyelids drooping, but still she was looking around the place with a strange light in her eyes, as if just revived from the grasp of death.

"Is this," she almost whispered, and Sam was close enough now to hear, "Is this Abel Township?"

Her words caused Sam and Jody to stare at one another, both, for a moment, too stunned to speak. Then Sam regained the use of his voice and answered her question that was hanging in the air between them.

"Yes," he told her. "This _is_ Abel Township. How have you heard about it?"

"So this is where Jack and Eugene lives?" she said, and Sam was unsure of whether she had even registered his question, but then she continued and he got his answer anyway, "I've listened to their radio show. Every day. Please, can you tell me, is this where they live? Can you take me to them?"

There was such eagerness in her voice, somehow mixed with such desperation, that Sam was again taken aback. It was clear to him that this was a big wish of hers; however, as she seemed barely able to stand he could not help deciding that there was someone else she ought to see immediately before any other kind of meetings could take place.

"I, um, look … What's your name?" he inquired.

"Vivian," she whispered.

"Okay, Vivian, look, we've got a hospital here and if you'll just let me take you to Doctor Myers …"

"No, please, I really need to meet them; I've got something I need to give to them …"

Surprised by the urgency in her plea, Sam Yao found himself searching for words once more. Luckily, Jody, who appeared to have noticed the same weariness in the girl that Sam had instantly realized, thought quicker than him this time. She put a hand on the girl's shoulder and spoke gently.

"Of course you can meet Jack and Eugene, Vivian. But won't you go with me to the doctor while Sam runs and finds them for you? I really think you need to lie down, but Sam will make sure they come see you right away. Won't you, Sam?"

There was not much of a choice for Abel's radio operator in Jody's words, but he did not mind. If finding Jack and Eugene could help convince the girl to get some much needed care, then he would make sure to bring them the message that they had someone who very much wanted to see them.

"Yeah. Yeah, of course I will. I'll look for them right away," he agreed.

This suggestion seemed agreeable to Vivian, because she nodded and a small smile formed on her lips as she let Jody lead her away in the direction of the hospital, her steps more unsure for every bit they moved. But Sam only watched them go for a few seconds; then he turned in the direction of the housing tents and started down the small roads as quickly as possible. The story behind the arrival of this girl was a mystery, and Sam had a feeling he would only uncover it with the help of Abel's radio hosts whose show had apparently managed, like the two had hoped but never dared be certain of, to cross the borders of Abel and move to the world outside.

After checking their tent and finding it empty, Sam located the two in the dining hall. He saw Runner Five leaving the place through the other exit with a selection of sports bras in hand and felt an instant urge to share this new mystery with his Runner, but knew he must wait. The request from the young girl must be put first in importance. He would catch up with Five later.

"Eugene! Jack!"

The two looked up as their friend neared the table at which they had only just finished enjoying their dinner and Eugene raised a questioning eyebrow at Sam when he saw the look on the Asian's face.

"Yeah, what's up, Sam?" he asked.

"You both need to come with me right now," the radio operator told them. "There's a girl who wants to meet you. She just got here, and she told me she's listened to your radio show every day."

"Every day?" There was a sudden light in Jack's eyes. "You mean we've got a fan? A real fan?"

"Hold on, Sam," Eugene, always the voice of reason, said. "What do you mean she just got here?"

"I mean she _literally_ just got here! Jody found her, all alone near the woods, and she brought the girl with her back to Abel. She can't be much more than, I don't know, maybe thirteen or fourteen years old; she's just a kid and it looks like she's been out there for a while, but when I tried to convince her to let me take her to see Doctor Myers, she insisted that she needed to talk to you two. So I promised that if she would go to the doctor, then I would find you for her. It seemed very important to her."

The two radio hosts exchanged an equally surprised look at his explanation. Then both of them stood, leaving their empty plates behind despite the usual courtesy rules of cleaning up after oneself, and followed Sam out of the dining hall.

* * *

To call Abel's medical center a hospital as such would be to give more credit, perhaps, to the building than it deserved, but in function Doctor Maxine Myers had succeeded in making it live up to its name. She may not have all the equipment of the pre-apocalypse hospitals, but the doctor was skilled at using whatever resources available to her and so, she was a much appreciated and important member of the township, equal in status almost to that of Miss Janine DeLuca, owner of the farmhouse around which the rest of Abel had been built.

Eugene Woods, for one, was thankful for the hospital to which he had paid far more visits than he would have liked, with the range of reasons varying from food poisoning to pains in his amputated leg to friends going grey. The latter were the worst visits; however, as it was impossible to survive by only staying behind walls, and with predators roaming every part of the world outside the township, unfortunately accidents were prone to happen, especially for the Runners, whom Eugene much respected because they were willing to put their lives on the line every day to keep Abel Township up and running. But every soul lost was another reason to keep going; how else could you honor such sacrifices than by living on?

As the two radio hosts followed Sam Yao through the wooden door, somehow they both fell quiet, perhaps, Eugene thought, in participation of the impending meeting. He could not keep himself from wondering what it might be that the young girl wanted to talk to them about that was so important it could not wait. At the same time, he was excited to learn that Radio Abel had done what Jack and he had hoped it would eventually and crossed the borders of the township to reach the world outside. Their initial purpose with the show had been to fill the silence that had stunned the world ever since the apocalypse had cut off what used to be normal communication systems, such as the phone network and the internet, in order to bring people together again and show them that not everything had to be bleak and lonely. Even through the darkness of death, there could still be the hope of a brighter tomorrow.

Shaking his head to clear it of thoughts that he felt was now becoming much too philosophical for the moment, he let his gaze fall on the room before him. Doctor Myers had succeeded in persuading the people in charge that the hospital ought to be able to provide good bedding for those who needed treatment, yet even so some of the spaces were still filled by mattresses only as it was difficult to transport beds from outside without making it a larger operation and so many other supplies, such as medicine and food, were much more important these days.

There were only a few patients at the moment, and Eugene thought he could see an unfamiliar face at the far end of the room … But before he had time to get a better look, the doctor walked up to welcome them. She did not get the chance to speak, however, before Sam did.

"How is she, doc?" he asked anxiously.

Doctor Myers sent him a reassuring smile.

"She's fine, Sam," she told him. "The girl was clearly dehydrated and very exhausted, but there's nothing seriously wrong with her. I've set up an IV drip and sent Jody to get some soup from the kitchen, and when you've talked to her I hope she can calm down and get some sleep. God knows she needs it, poor thing. Come, she's over here."

"Can you believe we're really about to meet a fan?" Jack whispered excitedly to Eugene, who smiled at the poorly concealed eagerness of his boyfriend.

The bed that the doctor took them to was of the better kind. In the bed sheets, the colors of which were as mismatched as any other set in Abel except, perhaps, Janine's personal ones, lay a young girl. She was thin, with dark spots under her eyes and hair unwashed, and Eugene could see what Sam had meant when he said that it looked as if she had been out there in the wilderness for a while. There was something fragile about her; she was just a kid and she must have been through a lot to arrive here on her own. Sam went to the side of the bed and, in a soft voice, spoke,

"Vivian? I've got Jack and Eugene here, to meet you."

Though it had looked a moment ago as if the girl might have been asleep already, now her eyelids fluttered open and her gaze found Sam, then moved to the two behind him and her eyes seemed to light up. Eugene felt that it was now their turn to say something, to introduce themselves.

"Um, hi there. I'm Eugene Woods," he began.

"And I'm Jack Holden," Jack continued. "Vivian, was it? It's nice to meet you. Sam said that you listen to our show …"

The girl raised herself up on her elbows and Sam, always the caretaker, rushed forward to support her, but she seemed to hardly realize it as she reached out and took Jack's hand as he was the closest of the two radio hosts. The look in her eyes touched Eugene and her voice was small and earnest when she told them,

"Thank you."

"Um, you're … welcome?" Jack stuttered, followed by a short silence before he had to ask, "Thank you for what?"

"Radio Abel," she replied. "When I was out there … Henry and I, um, my brother and I, we … we thought there was no one else. For a long time, we thought we were all alone. But he kept checking the stupid radio anyway and then one day …" She smiled, but it was a sad smile somehow, one that Eugene found it hard to read because it was as if there was something more in it too. "One day he found your show. We listened to you every day and it gave us hope to know that there was someone else still alive. Even when I lost him …"

At this she fell silent and her lips quivered, yet she did not cry.

"Even when I lost him, I kept listening. You gave me a reason to keep going. So thank you."

Eugene felt himself at a loss for words. This was different than what he had expected and he did not know how to respond to such a moving statement. How were you supposed to react when someone told you that you had unknowingly helped them survive? He felt a lump gathering in his throat and stepped over to the bed, beside a dumbstruck Jack whose eyes had gotten moist all of a sudden, and put his hand on the girl's. He wanted to say something, but the words seemed stuck in his head, unable to make it to the tongue.

"I'm …" It was Jack who first somehow managed to find a way to speak. His voice was thick. "I'm really glad we could do that, help you, Vivian. I'm … I'm just really glad."

She smiled and let go of his hand to search the pocket of the jacket draped on the bedside table next to her, from which she pulled something out that she put into Jack's hand. It was small and pink and familiar in shape, and Eugene realized that it was an mp3 player.

"This is for you," she told them. "There's … There's a lot of good songs on it. I thought that, maybe, you would like something more to play on the radio …"

* * *

When they left the hospital Eugene looked at Jack and tried to find a way to speak, to somehow express the experience that they had just had.

"That was …"

"Yeah."

"Wow."

"I know!"

Silence fell between them again as they slowly made their way through the small alleys of Abel Township toward their tent, each lost in his own thoughts of the girl they had never expected would so easily touch their hearts. Jack was clutching the mp3 player firmly in his hand still, and he gave it another squeeze as he spoke again.

"Can you believe that she survived out there, on her own? And can you believe that we made such a difference? I just … I never thought … I mean, I hoped, but …"

"I know exactly how you feel," Eugene assured him, taking his hand, "and we should do something for her, something special, don't you think?"

Their eyes met and right there, in his boyfriend's gaze, Eugene could read what he suspected was the very same idea that had occurred to him as they walked through the dark of the night. He leaned in, their lips met, and they moved closer together as they continued on their way, talking quietly, planning exactly how they would carry out their gift for Vivian tomorrow at noon.

* * *

Viv had slept well that night for the first time since she lost Henry. She awoke in bed, rested and warm, and dreaded for a moment that it had all been a dream, that in a second reality would set in and she would be, in fact, in another abandoned house with nothing but the radio to keep her sane. But then Doctor Myers walked past her bed and stopped when she saw that Viv was awake. The doctor seemed a very kind woman, Viv had decided. There was warmth in her eyes.

"Good morning," Doctor Myers said. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm … better, thank you."

"Would you like something to eat? We've got hot oatmeal."

"Yes, please. It sounds wonderful." Viv looked at the nearby window. The curtains were not drawnand the sun was up. How long had she been sleeping for? She hoped she had not missed it. Was there a radio, even, in here? "Doctor Myers, please, can I ask you something?"

The woman raised an eyebrow.

"Of course," she replied. "What is it, Vivian?"

"I … I would very much like to listen to Radio Abel," she said. "Is it…"

"It's not on yet, no," the doctor replied. "But it will be in about an hour. I'll get you some oatmeal and a glass of water. Once you've finished that I think it's time for Jack and Eugene's show. Does that sound okay with you?"

"Yes." Viv felt a huge wave of relief wash over her. She really had not missed it! "Thank you so much, Doctor Myers."

"You're welcome." The woman smiled and left to get her breakfast. Afterwards she stayed to chat while Viv ate, then checked the vitals of her patient to be certain that her initial examination had been correct, that the girl really was alright except for the case of dehydration that had now been dealt with. After assuring Viv that nothing indeed was wrong with her health as far as her tests could tell, Doctor Myers complied to her patient's plea and turned on the small radio that had its place on a table near the medical equipment in the middle of the room. A few minutes passed in which only white noise, such a well-known sound to Viv, poured out of the speakers. But then, as joyful a sound as ever, the voices of the Radio Abel hosts emerged.

" _Hello, listeners, and welcome to Radio Abel!"_ Jack said cheerfully. _"Today, we want to start by telling you a story from last night."_

" _That's right,"_ Eugene chimed in. _"You may not have been aware of this, but our township got a new citizen yesterday, and Jack and I were lucky enough to be among the first to meet her."_

" _Lucky indeed!"_ Jack agreed. _"She's really something. She's only thirteen years old, but she's been alone outside for a long time."_

Viv's heart skipped a beat. They were talking about her!

" _Hers is an inspiring story of survival,_ " Eugene declared, _"and when she's regained her health, we'd love to invite her in here to tell it herself because we think you should all hear it, listeners. Her name is Vivian Delaney. And today, the first song we're going to play will be dedicated to her."_

" _That's right. So if you're listening, Vivian, and we're fairly certain that you are … this one's for you."_

A few seconds of silence. Then the song started playing.

" _When you're down and troubled_

 _And you need some love and care,_

 _And nothing, nothing is going right,_

 _Close your eyes and think of me_

 _And soon I will be there_

 _To brighten up even your darkest night._

 _You just call out my name_

 _And you know wherever I am,_

 _I'll come running to see you again._

 _Winter, spring, summer, or fall,_

 _All you have to do is call_

 _And I'll be there._

 _You've got a friend."_

The song kept playing and Viv listened to every word, and she buried her head in her blanket and she cried. But this time her tears were not those of despair.


End file.
